Will You Walk Into My Parlour?
by DracoDew17
Summary: She always comes back to him.


A/N: Another drabble from me. This was written as a prompt request. Hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, still no ownage over here.

Warning: AU Sixth Year, but with some allusions to canon.

**Will You Walk Into My Parlour?**

"_Filthy Mudblood_."

The words dropped so easily from his mouth before it descended to her own, his pureblood lips sucking on her muddy tongue, as if he could pull all the mud right out of her.

Hermione felt her cheeks burn hot with shame as she drew back, her hand shooting up to connect with his face. The next moment, her wrists were pinned painfully to the wall of the library, the moonlight pouring in from the window beside them the only illumination in the dark room.

"I told you not to do that again."

The angry blond towered over her, a red handprint blooming on his left cheek, but his eyes were focused only on her. They were somewhat amused.

She turned away from him as much as she could in the small space between them, but he only followed as he began nibbling on her earlobe.

"I hate you," she stated, venom in her voice. Her eyes were shaded from his view, but she already knew he could see her disillusionment, her secret disgrace. She had tried to hide it from him at the start, but he was a conjurer in his own right and could squirm his way past her walls.

"No, you don't, Hermione," he mocked her as his hands traced down the length of her body from her wrists. "You're in love with me," he continued as his fingertips found the hem of her shirt and tenderly lifted it so he could dive underneath. His hands skimmed across her torso until he found her breasts, kneading the globes gently over the thin cloth of her bra. "You're in love with what I do to you, how I make you feel." His fingers were now circling the outline of her nipples.

"You're wrong," she gasped as her head fell back against the wall, her mind searching for something, anything that she could say to make him take back his lie. "You're just convenient." Hermione felt him fist his hand in her hair before yanking her head back painfully.

"You stupid Mudblood," he spat right in her face, his other hand jerking her pants and knickers down her hips. "You just don't get it, do you?" He shoved a finger into her wet channel without warning.

"How many times has it been since that first time? A dozen? Maybe more?" he questioned her rhetorically, his finger swirling against her inner wall, the pad rubbing a particularly sensitive spot and making her gasp. "Every time Weasley finds some new strumpet to lose himself in, you come running back to me; just like when you found him with Brown, and I found you here in the library, crying pathetically over that pauper."

He added another finger into the rhythm and she felt all the muscles in her body tighten as hot tears began pouring down her face unchecked. "You're wrong," she tried to convince herself again, the words burning her tongue as they dripped from her mouth. "I _do_ hate you."

"You love me as much as you hate me," he retorted, wicked grin in place as he added a third finger. "It's really yourself you hate."

Unable to respond, Hermione shut her eyes to him, not wanting him to see the truth written in the brown. Her walls were crumbling and he knew it; it wouldn't be much longer before they were standing in the ruins of her own dissent, the betrayal of herself.

When he brushed his thumb across the bud of nerves at the apex of her thighs, she fell apart in his arms, open and without conjecture, but she was shuttered once more as she straightened her clothes into some resemblance of respectability.

"I won't come back. This is the last time," she stated with absolute finality, before turning to walk out of the library, her head held high as she tried to ignore the wetness still present on her cheeks.

"You'll be back," he responded to her retreating figure, not even bothering to watch for her reaction as he stared out of the moonlit window to the grounds below. "You always come back." His next words were only for himself as his low voice fogged the glass.

"And I'll be waiting."

**Fin**

A/N: Please leave me a review, if you'd be so kind. :)


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